


Patronuses

by torestoreamends



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Spoilers, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 10:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7973662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torestoreamends/pseuds/torestoreamends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gives Albus and Scorpius's sixth year class a lesson on Patronuses. This fic was entirely born of me spending far too long thinking about what Albus and Scorpius's Patronuses would be. <br/>Beta'd by brief_and_dreamy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patronuses

It’s breakfast time and the great hall is buzzing with an unusual amount of energy for so early in the morning. Everyone in sixth year, everyone who is friends with a sixth year, everyone who is even vaguely acquainted with a sixth year, is chattering away wildly. The air is full of excitement.

Only one person in the hall is not excited. He sits at the end of the Slytherin table, closest to the doors, and he’s staring blankly at his cornflakes, which have become soggy and inedible during the time he’s been brooding.

His spoon trails uselessly through the mush of milk and cereal at the bottom of his bowl and he only vaguely hears the rustle of a newspaper being folded away next to him before a hand waves in front of his eyes.

“Albus,” Scorpius sing songs, the way he always does when he’s after attention.

Albus blinks at looks up at him. 

“Oh good,” Scorpius says. “I was worried we lost you. The lights were on but nobody was home." 

Albus sighs, looks down at his cornflakes to discover they’ve disintegrated, and pushes the bowl away. "I feel sick.”

“You do look a little pale,” Scorpius observes. 

“I think I might have to sit out of class today.”

“Aren’t you excited to learn the mysteries of the Patronus Charm? They’ve been teasing us with this since fourth year, and now we finally get to try it!”

“Not really,” Albus says. “I’ve been dreading it for years. You know it’s a less wonderful prospect when you’re being taught it by your dad. It’s going to be humiliating.”

“It will not be humiliating. You’re excellent at Defence Against the Dark Arts. You got an Outstanding in your O.W.L.s Albus, do you remember that?”

“I’m still convinced it was a fluke.”

Scorpius sighs. “You’re not getting out of this one, Albus. I’m afraid there’s no escape. We can be awful together. Did you know my dad couldn’t cast a Patronus until he was thirty? I fully expect to take after him.”

“You’re going to make me do this, aren’t you?”

“Yes I am. I confiscated all your Skiving Snackboxes so you have no excuse. Now will you eat some toast or something? If you pass out in front of your dad that really will be humiliating.”

 *

The classroom seems to be packed full of far more people than it normally is. All the desks have been stacked against the walls, leaving a wide open space in the middle. The only table remaining is the teacher’s desk and Harry is leaning against it. He’s wearing a boring grey suit and his glasses. His hair is sticking up the way it always does, the way Albus’ does too. His hands are buried in his pockets and he smiles around at the students as they jostle for the best spots, all trying to get to the front for a good view. 

Albus skulks at the back of the group. Scorpius seems torn between staying with him and fighting his way to the front. In the end he settles for standing on the edge near Albus. His height (courtesy of another growth spurt over the summer) means he can still see perfectly. 

“Is everybody in?” Harry asks. “I asked for a bigger room but they’re all a bit full so we’ll have to make do. Do you want to move forward at the back there?”

Begrudgingly Albus shuffles forward with the rest of the crowd. It means he’s no longer hidden, as someone finds some space somewhere and the group thins out a little.

Harry looks round the room, doing a quick headcount. When his eyes settle on Albus he gives a small nod. Albus looks down at the floor.

A few moments later Harry’s voice rings out brightly. “I think everyone’s here, so let’s get going shall we?” He starts pacing across the room, looking around as he talks. “I know you’ve been taught about the Patronus Charm before, so I’m not going to quiz you on it. You’ve been taught the theory behind making it work, you’ve been taught what it’s used for. You’ve been taught that it’s fiendishly difficult, well beyond your level. But I think it’s essential that you learn how to protect yourselves.

"I’ve seen kids younger than you master this spell, do it better than most fully fledged Aurors, and I’m confident you can do the same.” He meets the eyes of every single person in the room it seems. A pair of Gryffindor girls glance at each other and pretend to swoon. For a long moment everyone is completely silent, staring at the man in front of them, then Harry claps his hands together and breaks the spell.

“So. Let’s do this. I suggest you all spread out a bit, find some space and- yes?”

One of the people right at the front, a boy wearing Slytherin green, has raised a hand in the air. It’s almost trembling with excitement and anticipation. “Professor,” he says, “do you think you could remind us how it’s done? Maybe demonstrate?" 

Several heads nod in enthusiastic agreement.

"Ah yes,” Harry says with a smile. “I knew I’d forgotten something.” He draws his wand and holds it up in front of him. “You have to think of a happy memory, the happiest you have, and focus on it hard. Let it fill you up. Don’t stop thinking of it for even a second.”

“What sort of happy memory?” Someone calls out from across the room.

Harry turns to face them. “It could be anything, but it has to be an incredibly powerful feeling. I always find thinking about my family works best.” He steps back into the centre of the room and for a moment he looks right at Albus, who finds himself unable to look away. Harry’s smile spreads across his face and he flicks his wand in a circle. “Expecto Patronum.”

The silver stag bursts outward, shedding a bright, silver glow across the room. Several people gasp and dodge backward as it trots forward a few steps. Albus looks away from his dad as someone stands on his foot. 

“Ow,” he hisses. 

Scorpius glances across at him, wonder in his eyes. “Okay Albus?”

Albus nods. “Someone stood on me,” he mutters. He looks back up at his dad who’s turned away now and is patting the stag on the neck.

“This is what you’re aiming for,” Harry says. “But it takes a lot of practice and none of you should be ashamed if all you do is make a bunch of silver mist, or if you can’t do it at all in fact. Plenty of excellent witches and wizards will never produce a Patronus, but I’m not here to discourage you. All you can do is try, and keep practicing.” He dismisses the stag and steps back by the desk, gesturing to the empty floor in front of him. “So, spread out. Let’s see what you can do.”

There’s a lot of talking and a bit of nervous laughter as the class spreads across the room. 

“Your dad is pretty good at that, isn’t he?” Scorpius says to Albus as they head for a bit of empty space by the window. 

“I know,” Albus says.  _That’s part of the problem._

“Have you come up with a happy thought yet?” Scorpius asks. “I’ve been thinking a lot about mine. I have a few options. There’s seeing Hogwarts for the first time, there’s when we met on the train in first year, remember the pepper imps?” He grins. “There’s the time my dad hugged me, and, ooo! There’s the time-”

“Scorpius?” Albus says. “You’re making this worse.”

Scorpius looks suitably chastised as he picks his wand out of the pocket of his robes. “Sorry. I’ll leave you to your happy thoughts.” He gives a nervous little laugh and starts looking around the room.

Albus too surveys the crowd. Everyone seems to be watching everyone else, waiting for someone who isn’t them to demonstrate just how difficult this actually is.

“Don’t be nervous,” Harry tells them, as he starts to weave through the crowd. 

After a few seconds the room begins to fill with the sounds of people murmuring spells, punctured by the occasional cry of “did you see that?” or “I did something!” or “Professor, look at this!" 

Albus glances at Scorpius who is now standing with his face screwed up in intense concentration, muttering "Expecto Patronum” over and over again under his breath like he’s trying to practice a couple more times before he does the real thing. Since Scorpius usually knows what he’s doing when it comes to spell work, Albus closes his eyes too. 

He’s been trying to avoid thinking about this, but it’s been almost impossible since everyone’s been talking about it for so long. More than once he’s found himself sitting it the library, staring into space, trying to conjure up the perfect happy memory. So far he’s only ever come up blank.

“I don’t have any happy memories,” he says finally, opening his eyes again with a frustrated sigh.

“I’m offended,” Scorpius replies. “We’ve been friends for five and a half years and you can’t think of one time I’ve made you happy?”

“You know I don’t mean that." 

"Why don’t you start with the Hogwarts Express? That’s what I’m going for. Watch this.” Scorpius raises his wand, clears his throat dramatically. “Expecto Patronum." 

Absolutely nothing happens.

Albus snorts. "Very impressive." 

"Ah well, back to the drawing board I think.”

“Do you think it would work for me? I have to start somewhere I suppose.”

That first day of school had been an okay day, before things started to get really bad. A little fraught with fear and anxiety, but it was the first day that had Scorpius in it. Albus can hear, as if it were yesterday, Scorpius singing that stupid little song. “Sweets, they always help you make friends.”

He grins to himself. “Expecto Patronum." 

Barely anything happens. Maybe the tiniest fizz of silver, but it might just have been his imagination. Like Scorpius said, back to the drawing board.

For the next half an hour or so Albus cycles through as many happy memories as he can come up with. Most do absolutely nothing. One, of a particularly excellent day spent playing Quidditch with his mum when he was about ten, lets him produce a fine silver mist that hangs in the air for a moment before fading again. 

He stares at the space where it’s dissipated back into nothing, a big grin on his face. "Did you see that?”

“Yes I did,” Scorpius says. “And I’m very impressed. Any tips you fancy sharing?”

“I was thinking about my mum.”

Scorpius nods. “Yes. I thought I could try that. It might still be a little close to home? But I’m glad it works for you.” He gives a small smile and closes his eyes, back to concentrating.

Albus sighs and does the same. He’s searching for a new memory when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“You can relax. It might work better.”

Albus looks up to see Harry standing beside him. “I managed to do something. Before, when you weren’t looking.”

“You found a memory that works then?”

“I did but I think I can do better. I just need to think a bit more." 

Harry nods. "I’ll leave you to it then. I don’t want to put you off.” He pats Albus once on the shoulder then walks away. As he leaves Albus realises his heart has been racing. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been dreading the moment his dad would come to judge him, and now he feels the sweep of relief that it had passed without incident.

For a moment he stands there and tries to calm himself down, then he closes his eyes once more and redoubles his efforts.

What would be the one perfectly happy memory? Something with his mum? Something with Scorpius? Something with- Oh. 

It comes to him all in a rush. 

A summer morning, just before the O.W.L. results came out, warm with the promise of sweltering heat later in the day. They hiked up Stoatshead Hill, just the two of them, just Albus and Harry. Albus has always loved climbing the hill, ever since he was tiny. You could see the whole world from up there, but no one could see you. 

They sat in the grass at the top and watched the tiny figures of Ginny, James, and Lily zipping around on brooms in the garden far below.

“I’m keeping you from playing with them,” Albus said. “We can go if you want.”

“No,” Harry said, turning away from the Quidditch match below to look at him. “No I’d rather be up here with you. I still don’t spend enough time with you, and I think I’m missing out. You’re only here in the summer, and I can play Quidditch any time. So I want to be here. Is that okay?”

They sat on the hill and drank homemade lemonade, and talked about whatever they could think of to talk about, and they both got horribly sunburned, but it was worth it. Albus had never felt more happy or more loved than he did that one day spent together in the sunshine.

He can practically feel the warmth of it on his skin, see Harry laughing hard enough to snort lemonade out of his nose, hear the breeze ruffling the grass and the birds chittering in the low bushes nearby. 

It feels like sunlight and pure joy inside of him, and he holds it in his head and in his heart as he raises his wand and says, “Expecto Patronum”.

He doesn’t open his eyes at first, still desperately holding onto the memory like his life depends on it. He still has his eyes closed when he hears the murmur ripple through the classroom, and he feels every single eye turn in his direction. Very slowly he takes a deep breath, and looks up.

There is a silver doe standing a few feet from him. Her delicate head is raised, her ears pricked, and she’s looking right at him. The shadowy classroom is awash with silver light, and Albus feels warm, and safe. Protected. 

It isn’t a real deer, he knows that, but he still hardly dares even take a breath in case he scares her away. Very slowly he reaches out a hand, and she trots two steps forward and nudges her nose against it. 

There’s only a little solidity there, just enough to know he’s touching something. It feels like dense mist. Very warm, dense mist. Sunbeams on the skin. Lemonade in the mouth. Grass beneath the hands. 

“Well done.”

The voice, Harry’s voice, in his ear makes him jump. He jerks his hand back and the doe vanishes into thin air. Shadow fades back into the classroom and he feels someone, one of his classmates patting him on the back.

“That was totally cool, Al.”

Albus manages a smile in their direction as he turns to look up at his dad who just nods at him. Behind the reflections in his glasses his eyes look like they’re a little too bright. 

“There we go then,” Harry says. He glances up at the clock and turns his back on Albus. “I think that’s all we have time for today. I suggest you all keep practicing. We’ve made some excellent progress. Very good work. Excellent.” He walks across to the door and holds it open as the mass exodus begins. People are talking and laughing, and thanking Harry as they leave. 

In the midst of the sudden chaos Albus, still slightly stunned by what had just happened, looks around for Scorpius. He spots the tall figure and blond hair through the crowd just in time to see him flick his wand once and dismiss a bright, silver something that might have been a bird. Scorpius had done it too, without anyone noticing.

“Scorpius,” Albus says, starting toward him through the crowd.

Scorpius glances up at him. “Well done, Albus,” he says, voice tight with barely suppressed emotion. “You should stay and talk to your dad.” He turns away and grabs his bag from the floor. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Wait,” Albus calls.

Scorpius is already gone.

Albus considers just chasing him out of the room but he also has a thousand things he wants to say to his dad. This might be his only chance to say them. He can worry about Scorpius in a minute. 

The room empties around Albus as he picks up his bag and waits beside the teacher’s desk. When the last few stragglers finally leave Harry closes the door and turns round.

“Albus, I-”

“I was thinking about you,” Albus blurts out before he realises Harry is speaking. Immediately backs down. “Sorry. You were going to say something.”

"No,” Harry says. “It isn’t important. Go on.”

Albus fiddles awkwardly with the top button of his robe and tries to gather his thoughts. “The memory. The one I used to cast it. It was about you. About us really… Do you remember the day we climbed Stoatshead Hill last summer? When we both got really burned and mum told us off? You um… You said you’d rather be up there with me than playing Quidditch with the others.”

Albus swallows and looks up at his dad. “It made me feel… It made me feel like you loved me.”

Harry takes a step forward. “Albus, I do love you.”

Albus nods. “I know. I-I love you too." 

For a moment they just look at each other, then Harry sits down on the edge of the desk.

"It was a doe, wasn’t it? The Patronus you cast." 

Albus nods. "Yes, I think so." 

"Did you know Severus Snape used to cast a doe? And my mum, Lily. She did too. And now you.” Harry smiles at him. “I’m very proud of you, Albus." 

Albus scratches the back of his neck a little sheepishly. "Thank you… You know I didn’t think I’d be able to do it? I thought if you were here- But in the end it made it easier." 

"I’m always terrified by these classes,” Harry says. “The year I had to teach James was awful." 

Albus grins. "You said James is unteachable.”

“He is! He talks too much, never shuts up, he’s almost too confident. I have no idea how he got all those N.E.W.T.s. And do not tell you mother I said that.”

“Don’t worry dad. Your secret is safe with me." 

Harry gets up. “Good, good… Look I’ve probably kept you too long. Are you going to be late for your next class? I can write a note or-” He turns to the desk and starts searching for parchment and a quill.

“It’s lunchtime now dad,” Albus says with a smile. “But I should probably go and find Scorpius.”

“Okay,” Harry turns back to him. “Well. Be good. And keep practicing. It isn’t so easy to do when there are Dementors and things there. Although I hope you never have to face any of those. You should never have to face anything dark ever again.”

“But I should still be prepared,” Albus fiddles with the strap of his bag. “Constant vigilance and all that." 

"Exactly,” Harry says. “Constant vigilance.”

They walk to the door together, father and son, then they stand outside slightly awkwardly for a second before exchanging a tight hug in the empty corridor. After that they part, and Albus goes looking for Scorpius.

 *

Eventually, after searching the Slytherin dorm, the library, and the Great Hall, Albus decides to try the Owlery. It’s the place he and Scorpius have always gone to hide from the world, and at lunch time it will be completely deserted, especially because the light mist of rain spitting out of the grey sky is keeping everyone inside the castle.

Albus runs up the slick path, holding his hood over his head, and shoves the door open. It creaks inward and he steps into the tower. 

Inside it’s very quiet. The only sounds are the occasional soft hooting or flurry of movement as the owls come and go. Feathers and dust float in the air, illuminated by the grey light that seeps in through the large opening where the owls fly in and out. As Albus climbs the steps upwards he feels a bit of rain spotting against his cheeks where it’s drifting in from outside. He also sees Scorpius, sitting silhouetted against the light with his back to Albus, staring out at the grounds below, a little silver swallow darting back and forth around his head. As it swoops and dives its wings send pale light cascading off the walls, and it moves so fast it looks as though Scorpius has a silver halo circling him. 

“You did it too, then.” Albus climbs to the top of the stairs and walks over to him.

“Yes. Yes I did.” Scorpius’ voice sounds unusually thick. The way it normally sounds when he’s upset.

Albus sits down almost beside him. The floor is wet where Scorpius is, so he sits just behind, on the parts of the stone that are still dry. “Are you okay?" 

"Not really,” Scorpius says. He sniffs and wipes his eyes on the back of his sleeve then turns to face Albus. “Look at me. I’ve made the happiest thing in the world, and I’m still crying.”

Albus looks up at the swallow, which is still zipping overhead. “But it’s good crying?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. It’s everything crying.” Scorpius pats at the pockets of his robes. “I don’t suppose you have a tissue?" 

Albus pulls a clean one out and passes it over to him. "I saw it in the classroom,” he says, looking back up at the bird. “It’s very small. I always thought they were supposed to be bigger.”

“Small and frail. Just like my mother. But rather beautiful don’t you think? It’s free spirited." 

"Like you too, then.”

Scorpius gives a shaky laugh and blows his nose. “That’s very kind of you, Albus." 

Albus scoots up beside him, no longer caring about the dampness on the ground. The rain misting through the window is going to make him soggy anyway. 

"It’s true though. You never seem to care what anyone thinks. You just get on with life, whatever it throws at you. You’re unashamedly you.”

“It’s like you want me to keep crying,” Scorpius mutters, wiping his eyes again. “You know it’s you, right? The happiest memory in my life. I thought it would be my mum, maybe, or my dad, or Rose. But it was you. I just wasn’t looking in the right place.”

He turns to face Albus, head bowed, skinny legs folded in front of him, tissue crumpled in his hand, a nimbus of water droplets caught in his blond hair and starting to drip down his neck and down his nose. “I saw you with that doe, and I remembered. I remembered how, when I was in the darkest place imaginable I held onto you. I held onto the thought of you, and a silver doe protected me. I thought at the time it was Lily, but maybe it was you too.

"A-and then, when I came out of the lake and I saw you there, alive, and well, and wearing Slytherin green… I have never felt more happy, and I probably never will again.”

He runs a hand through his hair and water scatters across the floor as he looks up at Albus, grey eyes full of intensity. “You are my best friend. And I love you. And I am grateful every single day that I didn’t lose you. I saw my life without you in it, and it was miserable. But this-” he points up at the swallow which soars round him once more then alights on his shoulder, throwing silver light across his face, so his eyes light up like stars. “You make me happy enough to do this. So that’s why I was crying. Am still crying.” Scorpius gives a tiny laugh and wipes his eyes again.

Albus swallows and looks down at the ground, trying to digest everything he’s just heard. Finally he takes a breath. “I’m glad you’re here too. And. I love you too. And-” Albus doesn’t know what to say, where to start, how he’s supposed to respond to it all, so he just hugs Scorpius, as fiercely and tightly as he can. The swallow takes flight and darts around them, bathing them both in the light now. Albus can feel Scorpius gripping onto him, and it feels as though Scorpius will never let go, and Albus doesn’t want him to. But eventually they part.

Eventually the silver swallow takes flight into the dull, grey afternoon sky. Eventually they have to go back inside the castle for Charms class. And eventually Scorpius stops crying and starts teasing Albus about how he’ll be the hero of the school for at least the rest of the day. 

Apparently producing a corporeal Patronus is one of the more noteworthy things Albus has achieved, according to his peers. Which is nice, but Albus far prefers the quiet praise from the people he cares about most: the pride of his father, and the knowledge that his best friend is still glad to have him around. That, he decides as he sits comfortably by the fire in the Slytherin Common Room later that night, working on a particularly tricky Potions essay with Scorpius, is all he will ever need to be happy. 


End file.
